I Am Rowena MacLeod
by Lif61
Summary: Rowena tries to heal after Lucifer kills her, but some marks still remain.


**A/N: Written for one-word whump prompts on tumblr: broken + scars.**

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The first thing Rowena's body did when she came back to life was have a seizure. Or she figured that's what had happened. The taste of iron, of blood, had filled her mouth, a sense of doom crushing her chest, and then she'd blacked out. When she came to, her muscles searing beyond belief from the fire, she was aching. Aching, aching, aching, and it didn't leave.

The pain was deep in her soul.

Lucifer's face flashed through her mind. Red eyes, darkness.

Ruin.

Pure evil had touched her, had done away with her. And part of her didn't want to be back.

Rowena felt her body slowly putting itself together with the magic she had in place. Her organs and skin regenerating even more, itching, stabbing, her skull aching fiercely. Something felt wrong with her head, but she couldn't figure out what it was. It just hurt. Or she thought it did. Was that what pain felt like?

She wasn't sure.

Rowena tried to form a spell in her mind to speed up her healing, even as she lay there on the floor, the walls and furniture awash in her blood.

But it wouldn't come to her.

Why wouldn't it come to her?

On top of all her pain there was an animal that just wouldn't shut it. It was loud, growling and whimpering, sounding like it needed to be put down. Rowena wanted the noise to end, hoped that she could get some peace then.

She held her breath as pain spiked through the front of her skull, that iron taste in her mouth again.

The noise stopped.

Oh…

Oh _god_.

 _She_ was making that noise.

Her tears ducts had yet to heal, so tears wouldn't come, but she sobbed anyway. She was too dehydrated to cry even if she did have tear ducts – being burned could do that.

She didn't know how long she lay there, hours, maybe, having to put up with the animal-sound leaving her chest, trying and trying to remember the spells she needed.

In time, she didn't need the spells, and, her body nearly regenerated, she was able to pick herself up off the floor.

It wasn't till Rowena had showered and was looking at herself in the mirror that she realized something was wrong. Her hair had grown back, but it seemed thinner at the base of her skull. Purple silk robe wrapped around her, she went out in the hotel room (a different one, thank god), and retrieved a hand mirror. Fear quickening her pulse and sitting tight in her stomach, she went back into the bathroom, faced away from the mirror over the sink, and held the mirror in front of her. She moved it around, getting a view of the back of her head.

Something looked wrong.

Rowena lifted up her hair, and that's when she saw it. An indent in her skull, skin almost purple and raw, an ugly scar that had ruined her scalp, had completely ruined her hair follicles.

Now, her body mostly intact, and after having had some water, she was able to cry once more.

Rowena had been relieved to be alive while showering, but no longer. She sank to the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest, whimpering as she tried in vain to hold in a sob.

That's when she noticed the other marks. She'd been scrubbing blood off of her so furiously before, had been tinged with blinding fear, but now she could look, and now she could see.

A mass of red webs had taken up her arms, the place that Lucifer had set fire to her first. She wiped at her skin, as if the scars would come off, as if the evidence of the violence done to her would leave.

It stayed.

Why was it staying? Why hadn't her magic fixed it?

And she still couldn't remember all her spells.

Lucifer had done something to her head. Maybe something permanent. Even now as Rowena looked at certain objects she realized she couldn't remember the names of them. It made her cry even more.

At least she had her name.

"I am Rowena MacLeod," she whispered to herself. "And I will not be beaten by some evil low-life who thinks he's better than me just because he's got fancy wings."

She had thought she'd feel better saying those words to herself, but her head was still broken, and the scars still reminded, and she found herself crying once more.

"I am Rowena MacLeod," she got out. "I am Rowena MacLeod. I am Rowena MacLeod."

Maybe in time her body would heal. She always did. _Always_.

But now, the scar his face, his evil, had marked upon her mind, was permanent.

Rowena wasn't sure she'd ever be able to sleep again.

Still, she murmured to herself as she rocked back in forth, shock seeping down into her bones, "I am Rowena MacLeod."


End file.
